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She still lives in her own house, all alone. Cleans, cooks, goes shopping, etc., and does not look a day over 80.
My SIL passed away this weekend at 70 from Dementia. My BIL (75) is heart broken. His Mom wanted to come to the wake to be with him, and see her DIL who she loved and liked going out with shopping. Her Grandson drove her there from 50 miles away. A bit too much driving at her age?
Unbelievable woman. Very sad situation but Mom brought a lot of smiles to people there. "Come over my house and I'll make some pasta and "gravy".
I was 46 years old when I lost my 105 year old great grandmother.
The only reason she was born in Minnesota, and not the black hills region of South Dakota where the family homesteaded, was the Indian problem which culminated in the battle of Wounded Knee on December 29, 1890. The family held back so that the Army could clean things up.
Except for visiting family she lived in the black hills region her entire life. She traveled to the Black Hills in a covered wagon but jetted around the country to visit relatives later in life. Yep, a real covered wagon.
One habit she had was everyday except Sunday she would walk the two blocks to the local saloon, that is what she called it a saloon, and drink one beer before supper. Yes, she was doing this at the age of 105.
As far as we can tell she never spent a day in a hospital and the only thing wrong with her is you had to speak up because her hearing was going.
I don't know how long she lived in the house she had but my guess would be at least 70 years.
Very well known for her rhubarb pies the day before her death she spent her garden with her hoe and other garden tools. After done with the garden she visited the saloon, ate supper and went to bed. Upon waking the next morning she called to her daughter, who was 85, to come into a room whereupon granny set straight up in bed and said "I'm dying" whereupon she fell straight back onto her pillow and was gone.
What I go that is how I want to go.
Remember when I would visit in the 60s and 70s we would go out to the family farm, ranch really, and she would tell her stories of growing up. From what I learned from her life was not easy in the Black Hills at the turn of the 19th to 20th century. She had all of her children at home and some of them never survived. You had to be born healthy or you weren't going to make it.
Oh, she wasn't politically correct and she sure wasn't bashful about sharing her opinions.
That's a great story, that's how I like to go too. I need to take up the beer habit though.
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